


Trial By Unfriendly Fire

by Feenie



Category: Atop the Fourth Wall
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Malachite Redemption, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-05-28 14:31:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15051215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feenie/pseuds/Feenie
Summary: After Suburban Knights, Linkara returns home to find a familiar sorcerer in his apartment. Thanks to Aeon's Ring, Malachite cannot leave.And thanks to Aeon's Ring, Malachite is about to be dragged kicking and screaming into character development.





	1. Welcome Home

Linkara had never been so happy to see his apartment in all his life. After trudging through suburban hell for a day or so in full cosplay, and barely putting up a fight against a sorcerer that greatly outclassed him...it was nice to be home.

“Welcome back, kid,” Harvey greeted as Linkara sat roughly down on the couch. “So, how did that whole treasure hunt thing go?”

“Awful. Very awful,” Linkara muttered. “I think I should have found a costume to go with my hat. I needed to fight this evil sorcerer and I wasn’t able to actually do anything.”

“Yeesh. Did anything good happen at all?” Harvey asked, raising an eyebrow. When Linkara shook his head, he winced. “I’d say take a break, kid. I can’t imagine you’d be in any shape to review a crappy comic.”

“Wish I could, honestly,” Linkara muttered, choosing to get up and make his way to the kitchen. His mind kept jumping back to Ma-Ti’s duel with Malachite, how he did more in his fight than Linkara could have hoped to do, how all it would have taken was a moment for Linkara to join the fight and save him--

He found himself staring at the fridge door, bad memories of a certain crappy Halloween creeping back. This time, he actually had a death on his hands he could have prevented, but he just stood and chanted ‘Heart!’ like an idiot. Linkara’s appetite was quickly soured, and decided against anything to eat.

As he turned, his foot hit something and he was sent stumbling for a moment.

“What—?!”

Linkara regained his balance, and looked down to see none other than Malachite, unconscious. He froze, processing Malachite’s prone form.

Malachite was alive. Ma-Ti died for nothing. Malachite’s gauntlet was gone. Malachite had won in the end, and...

Malachite was in his apartment.

“Kid, you okay? I heard you shout and—“

Harvey stepped into the room, and stopped at the sight of Malachite out cold. “...do I even wanna know?”

Linkara sighed deeply. “This is the sorcerer I mentioned. And I think we should tie him up before he wakes up.”

—

Malachite was now tied to a chair in the kitchen, staff a safe distance from him. He hadn’t moved once since Linkara found him, and he started wondering if he was in a magical coma or something.

“This can’t be that wizard you fought, why is he here?” Harvey wondered.

“I don’t know, I thought he was dead,” Linkara admitted. “And I’m wondering about the ‘why here’ bit, honestly...”

“Does he know about you being the Champion?” Harvey pressed.

Linkara shook his head. “I doubt it, it took Vyce coming in to even learn I was this world’s Champion. If other wizards could sense it—“

“You can’t possibly be the Champion,” Malachite interrupted, raising his head.

Linkara jumped back, drawing his gun. Malachite’s glasses were askew, revealing what Linkara hoped were pitch black eyes.

“You are a child,” Malachite went on, venom in his voice. “A weak, pathetic child who resorted to kidnapping me—“

“Okay, let’s set the record straight, you showed up unconscious!” Linkara interrupted. “I had nothing to do with this!”

He could see Malachite blink a few times before he groaned, hanging his head. “Of course. Of course this would happen with Aeon’s creation.”

“Excuse me?” Linkara asked, tilting his head.

“I was banished to this place,” Malachite said, raising his head. “Even Aeon’s own creations care too much about me.”

He closed his eyes and concentrated, and Linkara saw the barest flicker of smoke from Malachite’s hands for a moment. In moments, he seized up and the smoke vanished, and Malachite bent over with a wet cough. Red splattered the floor, and Harvey tensed up.

“Kid?”

Linkara winced, grabbing a rag. “That’s about what I expected.”

“My powers—you...you did something,” Malachite said after a moment. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. Ma-Ti and Aeon’s ring did this, not me,” Linkara responded as he mopped up the blood. “And unfortunately for you, I don’t know whatever spells the Ring hit you with. At best, a teleportation spell and one to strip your magical strength.”

Malachite raised his head to look at Linkara, eyes narrowed. “Do you expect me to believe that? I can sense the magic from your gun.”

Linkara inhaled sharply, heart sinking into his stomach. Malachite went on, “I wasn’t able to tell where it was coming from then, but here? It’s a near-literal beacon. If you wanted to lie that you didn’t know magic that well, you should have tried a little harder than that.”

Linkara had no good response to that, and the gun heated up in his pocket. ‘If he’s implying what I think he’s implying...’ she muttered.

“I--I didn’t make this gun,” Linkara forced out. Malachite raised an eyebrow, frowning deeply, and that just spurned Linkara on to say, “It was her parents. I didn’t make this gun, nor would I ever attempt the ritual that made it.”

“Then how did you get it?” Malachite questioned. “Unless you expect me to believe you bought it?”

“...a crazy dude ran up and gave it to me,” Linkara admitted, painfully aware of how stupid that sounded.

Judging by the look Malachite was giving him, Linkara was willing to bet he just rolled his eyes. “...that is stupid. However, I will, for now, give you that either you’re a terrible liar or that is what happened.”

“We’re not here to discuss his magic gun,” Harvey cut in. “We’re here to discuss you. What is it gonna take for you to get out?”

“Any info as to where my gauntlet and my anchor are,” Malachite responded. “Do that, and untie me, and I will leave you alone.”

“Ah yes, like we’re going to tell you where your magical items are so you can kill everyone!” Linkara retorted.

Malachite scowled. “Then at least untie me, because I could care less about you and your half-baked magical potential. I’ll leave you alone, and you leave me alone. Deal?”

Linkara was about to start protesting at his magical potential being ‘half-baked’ before Harvey quickly said, “Fine, we’ll untie you and let you go. Just don’t come back.”

Harvey quickly untied Malachite, and he wasted no time in striding over to the front door with his staff. The moment he touched the doorknob, he was flung backwards with a yelp. Linkara and Harvey watched the scene with wide eyes, and for the briefest moment, Linkara could see a pink barrier with a heart on it shimmer around the front door.

“...kid?” Harvey prompted.

“This is definitely not my magic. Whatever Aeon and Ma-Ti’s combined power did, it’s trapping him here,” Linkara realized.

Linkara approached the door, unable to resist his curiosity. As he suspected, the barrier didn’t stop him from touching the doorknob and opening the door. He stepped back and concentrated, and he could touch the barrier this time. The magic making it up was strong, thrumming with energy almost comparable to an electric fence.

Linkara shut the door and stepped back. “This is far beyond what I can do. Whatever this barrier is, it’s far stronger than my magic.”

“Of course it is,” Malachite muttered. “So I am essentially your prisoner, unless you want to end my life now—“

“Are all of you magic-types so dramatic?” Harvey interrupted, shaking his head.

“We aren’t going to kill you. I don’t like you, but I won’t hurt you,” Linkara declared. “We’ll take you in, alright?”

Malachite wrinkled his nose. “Do I even have a say in this?”

“Trust me, I wish you did, but that barrier isn’t coming down anytime soon,” Linkara said, folding his arms. “So, welcome to your new home for however long you’re stuck here.”

Malachite sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Wonderful.”

Linkara hesitated before approaching Malachite and offering a hand. “Maybe we should properly introduce ourselves. I’m Linkara.”

Malachite ignored Linkara’s hand and stood up, brushing himself off. “...you already know my name.”

Linkara sighed. “Harvey Finevoice, Malachite. Malachite, Harvey Finevoice. Once I see 90’s Kid and Ninja-Style Dancer, I’ll introduce them to you as well.”

“Charmed,” Harvey said, frowning.

“Hm. Where will I be sleeping?” Malachite questioned.

“We’re going to have to make a temporary bed on the floor until we figure this out,” Linkara admitted, looking around his apartment. “Sorry about that.”

Malachite simply shrugged as Harvey went to gather spare blankets, and Linkara started wondering in in earnest just how Aeon intended for them to handle Malachite. Did he need to be shown that progress wasn’t bad? Did Aeon just want Malachite to be a better person? Or was this Aeon’s last proverbial middle finger to Malachite from beyond the grave?

Linkara huffed to himself. “Wish you were alive to question, Aeon.”


	2. wakey wakey, eggs and bakey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god just take this
> 
> I couldn't say for the life of me why the third section gave me so much trouble. I just couldn't.

“So, why haven’t you introduced me to Malachite yet?”

That evening, Linkara was combing through his comics, Pollo sitting on the futon.

“Because he’s very anti-technology, and I’d really rather not risk him flipping out over you yet,” Linkara explained, still looking through his comics. “Where’s that stupid Marville issue...”

“But wouldn’t you be able to stop him? You have access to the Arsenal of Freedom here,” Pollo noted.

“Well, maybe, but I’d like to avoid that if possible. I don’t like the idea of keeping him prisoner in my home, but I might as well try to be civil. Emphasis on try.”

Linkara bit back a sigh, stepping back from his comics for a moment. “The one upside is at least he can’t use magic, but he’s still powerful and I don’t intend on testing the Arsenal against his martial arts.”

“Then are you going to convince him to be a better person?” Pollo pressed.

“I can try, certainly, but if it’ll take...don’t know about that. There’s a lot of uncertainty about the future with him around, and it _sucks_ to not figure out how to prepare for this. You might as well have stuck Vyce in my apartment for all the good this is doing,” Linkara replied. “At least I can glean some magic information by observing, but even then it’s an evil sorcerer who’s using it...”

Linkara hummed in thought. “We’ll have to play it by ear for now. We’ll try to introduce you, but I can’t imagine it will go particularly well.”

“Understood,” Pollo said, simply.

—

Malachite stared up at the ceiling from the makeshift bed on the floor, sleep being the furthest thing on his mind. Of course Aeon would do this to him, if this wasn’t that child’s own attempt at punishing him.

...Malachite called him a child, but he didn’t know what to make of him. That gun couldn’t have been made by an apprentice, the spirit within it wasn’t trying to rebel against him if it wasn’t in a subdued state, yet the wards around the area weren’t exactly _strong_ for lack of a better word.

Malachite rolled onto his side, concentrating. There was a faint hum all around him, and not that far from him, he could sense a larger cluster of magic items. He sighed briefly in relief when he realized they were simple enchantments, ‘the object becomes what it represents’ and nothing more.

He could hear another faint hum, one that very obviously wasn’t from magic or anything in nature. Malachite grunted, closing his eyes and trying to focus on the magic nearby. He didn’t want to even acknowledge the fact this barely trained apprentice kept enough technology in his home that he could hear it.

Ever so slowly, he slipped off to sleep.

\--

Malachite awoke to the smell of food, and his stomach growled. He turned onto his side, trying to ignore the fact he hadn’t eaten in a while.

“Do you think Shades is going to wake up for breakfast?” one voice--Harvey, he assumed--asked aloud. “Sorcerers need to eat too, right?”

“I have no idea,” Linkara responded. “Don’t know if he’s a light sleeper or not.”

“I’m up,” Malachite grumbled, sitting up and putting on his glasses. “Give me a minute.”

“Good morning to you too,” Linkara greeted as Malachite made his way to the kitchen. “Did you sleep okay?”

Malachite half-expected a sarcastic question from him, but was somewhat surprised to not hear one. “...somewhat. I’ve slept in rougher places.”

“Let me know if you need an air mattress, there’s probably one around here,” Linkara said, returning to whatever food he was making. “There’s also the couch if you’d rather sleep there.”

Malachite just nodded, walking out of the kitchen before pausing. He was trapped, and he didn’t know what to do--he’d normally be out walking at this point, maybe taking shelter if it was raining particularly hard, but...

He groaned, turned around, and sat back down in the kitchen. Waiting for him at the counter was a plate of scrambled eggs, and Malachite couldn’t help but wonder how much magic went into making it.

Malachite picked at his food, stomach split between wanting to eat and turning his nose up at actual food. He wanted to eat, but he found himself staring down at his plate. Of all the days...

“Not hungry, Shades?” Harvey asked.

“It’s Malachite. And I’m not sure--”

The door opened. “Duuuudes!” a loud voice interrupted. “Guess who’s here?!”

“Ah, 90’s Kid,” Linkara noted, getting out a fourth plate. “I was wondering when he’d get here.”

Malachite turned to see a tall teenager with a backwards orange cap and sunglasses enter the apartment, a bright smile on his face. “Who’s the new guy?”

“That’s Malachite, he’s uh...”

Linkara and Harvey exchanged looks. “He’s kind of stuck here for now, 90’s Kid. Malachite was cursed to be trapped here, so we...pretty much have a new roommate. Malachite, that’s 90’s Kid, he drops by sometimes.”

“Nice to meet you, dude!” 90’s Kid greeted.

“It’s...nice to meet you as well,” Malachite responded in turn. As 90’s Kid walked past him, an odd feeling crept down his spine like melting ice, a brief hiss of static in his ears, something screaming faintly that something was _wrong_. He knew this feeling, but he couldn’t exactly place why.

He did know one thing, however: something was watching them.


	3. The first step in making a new friend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4/30/19: had to remove oan's mention because apparently he was emotionally abusive to his ex-girlfriend. fantastic. glad that's another content creator i'll never watch again.

Harvey wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Malachite. So far, he wasn’t actively causing trouble, which Harvey thanked his lucky stars for. Linkara had been through enough as is, and a house guest causing trouble wouldn’t have helped one bit.

However, he didn’t like what he saw. An evil sorcerer that the kid struggled to beat stuck in his own apartment made Harvey chomp anxiously on his cigarette, immediately fearing the worst. Right now, 90’s Kid was talking Malachite’s ear off about comics, and Harvey was ready to jump in at any time if Malachite laid a hand on him.

Linkara was watching him like a hawk as well. There was something in the way the kid didn’t take his eyes off him for long, his stiff posture, the fact his hand was always resting against his holster, that told Harvey enough about how Linkara felt about Malachite.

“Kid, do any of your reviewer pals know about Shades being here yet?” Harvey asked, hoping Malachite wouldn’t butt in.

Linkara winced. “Nope. Don’t know if it’s a bright idea to tell them or not. I mean...”

Malachite scowled, leaving the kitchen as Linkara went on. “Someone died. Malachite killed Ma-Ti--this guy who hung around the Nostalgia Critic for a while, and it _broke_ him. Like out and out broke him. While I certainly wouldn’t tell Critic about this, I don’t really know how the others would react.”

That was enough for Harvey to look quickly back toward where Malachite walked out of the kitchen, grimacing. “And we’re just taking him in?”

“I know, _I know,_ but what else can I do?” Linkara took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “I’m not going to murder him, that’s a firm no. And the barrier...”

He put his glasses back on. “It really is beyond anything I can do. Even from appearance alone, I know whoever made that barrier structured it in such a complex way that a simple dispel attempt wouldn’t do anything. So, in short, there really isn’t anything I can do right now.”

Harvey groaned. “Great.”

“What the--?!” Malachite started from the living room, and Linkara immediately ran over. Pollo had chosen to leave Linkara’s office, and now hovered in front of Malachite. Linkara groaned, shaking his head.

“Pollo, I said we were going to introduce you slowly.”

“I thought just seeing me would be a good place to start,” Pollo responded, an innocent tone in his voice. Malachite reached for his staff, and Linkara had to yank back on it.

“No, you are not smashing Pollo!” he yelled.

“That is a technological abomination that does not deserve to exist!” Malachite argued, trying to snatch his staff back. “How dare you defend that thing?!”

“That’s Pollo, he’s my friend, and how dare you try to hurt him?!” Linkara retorted. The two struggled with the staff for a moment, until Pollo flew into Malachite as hard as he could. He stumbled, and that was enough for Linkara to take the staff away from him.

“Give my staff back, or so help me...!” Malachite growled, stepping forward. Sparks jumped at his hands, and Linkara’s eyes went wide.

“Wait, Malachite, the spell--”

And within moments, Malachite was down, clutching at his chest. A thin trickle of blood hung around the corner of his mouth. Linkara sighed, dropping the staff at his feet.

“Malachite, look, you don’t have to like Pollo, but...don’t hurt him, please?”

“...no promises,” Malachite muttered, wheezing.

“And Pollo, back to the office for now,” Linkara ordered.

“Understood,” Pollo responded, hovering back to the office.

\--

That night, Linkara, Lupa, MarzGurl, Suede, and Nash held a meet-up over Skype. Everyone, save for Linkara, were lounging in PJs.

"Are you still working, Linkara?" MarzGurl asked. "I'd thought you would at least be done at this time of night."

"Still working on getting another morpher to work in case one breaks. Plus it's...generally been a long day," Linkara responded. "Nonetheless, let’s play catch-up. Lupa, is Critic okay?”

Lupa sucked in a breath. “Still a wreck. If he’s getting better, it’s hard to tell right now.”

“Wait, what’s up with Critic?” Nash asked.

“Well, uh...Ma-Ti died,” MarzGurl responded, not looking at Nash. “He didn’t take it well.”

“Shit, what? What happened?” Nash pressed as he leaned forward in his seat. “How the hell do you kill a Planeteer? Hell, why _would_ you kill a Planeteer?”

Linkara and MarzGurl exchanged looks. “Critic dragged us out on a treasure hunt. We found this gauntlet that belonged to a wizard, and he killed Ma-Ti,” Linkara explained.

For a brief moment, Linkara saw something akin to horror flash across Nash’s face. It was gone near-instantly, and only shock remained.

“So Critic—a stupid wizard—what? What??” Nash stammered out.

“We think the wizard—Malachite, I think?—we think he’s dead too,” Lupa added. “Nothing remained of him...”

Nash paused, blinking, before he sighed in relief. “Okay. Evil wizard dead, that’s fine. And the rest of you?”

“Aside from Critic, we’re okay more or less. I’m back to doing review work, at least,” Suede said, shrugging.

“I’m doing alright. Need to get back into the swing of work,” Linkara admitted.

“Ugh, I know how that feels,” Lupa chimed in. “I don’t wanna go back to work.”

“I have to get back into the swing of doing content at all,” Suede added, leaning back in his chair. “I might just do anime reviews again--Bennett won’t mind, will he?”

“I don’t think so, no,” MarzGurl responded. “I haven’t heard from him since we all got home, but I’m assuming he’s busy.”

Linkara shrugged. “Probably. Anything specific in mind, or...?”

“Pokemon!” Suede responded, near-immediately. “I want to do a retrospective of the first season!”

“You have to do a full essay on why Bulbasaur is the greatest Pokemon!” Linkara said, grinning.

“Write it yourself!” Suede retorted, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. “Mine is going to be on why Wobbuffet is the greatest Pokemon now and forever.”

“Nerrrrrrds,” Nash chimed in.

“Say, while we’re talking, has anyone seen Ninja-Style Dancer?” Linkara asked, the smile fading. “I haven’t seen him for a while, I don’t know if any of you might’ve seen him or not.”

The mood quickly soured as everyone else shook their heads. “Sorry, haven’t seen him,” MarzGurl apologized. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“A few months ago, just before...y’know. That,” Linkara responded. “He was injured, and he wrote ‘a piece of the world is missing’ before he vanished when I took my eyes off him.”

He looked at his desk, frowning. “On the back, ‘its voice is not its own’...have you guys seen anything strange lately? Encounters with Malachite aside?”

“Not really,” Lupa admitted, frowning as well. “Sorry about that. We don’t really get tangled up in this sort of thing as often as you and Spoony do.”

“No, it’s fine, just was hoping for a lead,” Linkara responded. “Uh, never mind all that, anyone want to discuss cameos and crossovers?”

Despite his best attempts to take his mind off Ninja-Style Dancer, Linkara kept thinking the scene over and over, even as the night wore on.


End file.
